


A Quiet Moment

by dementorsatemysoup



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Could be Pre-Slash if you squint, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, No Plot, Smoking, a quiet moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-17 23:34:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2327234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dementorsatemysoup/pseuds/dementorsatemysoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small moment between Rick and Daryl</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Quiet Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Who knows where this came from. Probably from binge watching TWD all day, or possibly from reading Rickyl fanfiction for the past week, whatever the case please enjoy my shoddy attempt at writing for this fandom.
> 
> Please excuse my crappy tagging, I don't really know how to tag it.

Daryl found a pack of Pall Malls underneath a magazine rack during a trip into town. Three cigarettes were partially crushed, but the rest were in pretty good shape, so he pocketed the pack. He couldn't exactly smoke them without a lighter, but it didn't hurt to have them on hand. Back at the prison, after a quick search, he dug out a thing of matches from the bottom of one of the supply bags, shoving them in his pocket, and damn near forgot about both until later that night.

He ducked outside, crossing the yard, stopping midway to the gate. He sat down, lying back, watching the stars for a brief moment before pulling out his cigarettes. Pall Malls weren't exactly his favorite (he used to smoke Marlboros like they were candy), and they reminded him of the women his father used to bring home, but he didn't exactly have a lot of options, it being the end of the world and all, so he's not about to start complaining.

He shook out a cigarette, placing it in his mouth, putting the pack back in his pocket. He removed the matches, pulling one free, and struck it. It took two tries before a small flame erupted from the end, and he used it to light the butt. He shook out the match, waiting until it's completely flame free before flinging it to his left, letting it land somewhere in the grass.

He took a long drag on the cigarette, savoring the taste of nicotine after going so long without it. He blew out a plume of smoke, watching it float into the air before falling back down, enveloping his face. He remembered the first time he had ever smoked a 'cancer stick' (as his uncle Jess used to call them), Merle having shoved one into his hand and saying, _"Smoke up, little brother, 's only a matter of time."_

Daryl damn near got sick the first time he inhaled,and Merle nearly fell out of his chair he was laughing so hard. It'd gotten easier after that, and he'd been doing it ever since. He knew it's a filthy, dirty habit, and tried to quit a few times before the outbreak happened, but now he just didn't give a shit. It's the end of the fucking world, smoke them if you got them. Daryl took another drag on his cigarette, blowing smoke out of his nose. He flicked ashes onto the ground, absentmindedly threading his free hand through the grass.

"Hey." Daryl picked his head up just enough to see Rick approaching him. He nodded in lieu of a greeting, laying his head back down. Rick settled down next to him, leaning back on his hands, tilting his head so he could look at the sky. Neither man said a word, they didn't  _need_ to, hadn't needed to in a very long time. Daryl nudged Rick's foot, offering him the cigarette, and for a moment he actually thought Rick was going to decline the offer, but he surprised Daryl by accepting it. It's clear that the ex-cop hadn't made it a habit of smoking in the past, the barely suppressed cough making the hunter snort.

"Haven't smoked since high school," Rick explained handing the butt back, his face twisted in a grimace. Daryl shrugged, taking it back, placing it between his lips. They fell silent again, watching the sky, the orange glow from Daryl's cigarette the only light between them.

At some point, Rick maneuvered so he's laying down, the back of his head resting against Daryl's side, legs bent, left hand drumming against his stomach. He probably expected Daryl to say something, and had this been a year ago he would have, but now he just took another long pull on the butt and kept quiet. They continued to lay silently, Daryl finishing his cigarette. He pinched the end, putting it out, and flicked it into the darkness, blowing out one last stream of smoke.

"We should head back inside," Rick suggested making no move to get up.

"Yeah," Daryl agreed placing his hands beneath his head. Rick's warm against his side, they haven't seen a walker in nearly a week, it doesn't look like it's about to rain, and if anyone needed them, they weren't far. They don't get many moments like this, it'd be stupid not to enjoy it. "In a minute."

"Yeah, in a minute."

Within minutes they're both asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't exactly condone smoking, I personally find the habit disgusting, but I have an annoying habit (I guess) for writing characters who like to smoke. So, I'm just applying that habit to a character who already likes to smoke. Also, I know Rick probably wouldn't accept a cigarette, but what the hell right. It's fiction.
> 
> My point, don't smoke. Unless you already do then, hey it's your life. Do with it what you want :)
> 
> Bye


End file.
